Monday, 28 April 2014

Dear God, are you
there? Can you hear me? Are you listening? I hope I am not
speaking too softly. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time. I hope you are
not too busy or something. I know this is one of the millions of petitions you
will receive in a day. And I can't imagine the billions you get every year. I
know you have heard them all. I know there is nothing new when it comes to you.
But what is old stuff to you is actually new stuff to me. I am in my forties and
you are well infinity. Going purely on numbers, you are way ahead of me in age
and wisdom. So, what is billions of
requests compared to an eternity, right?

Anyway, if you are still there, then you would have
already known what I am going to say. But still, I want to say it because I
need to personally know that I have said it. I am doing this more for myself.
My insecurities that is. So, indulge me and pretend you are hearing it for the
first time. And what I want to say to you starts with a question. It is from
the heart. I hope it’s alright with you? Ok?

Dear God, here's my question: Are you always there? Always near? Always within earshot? Of course
the operative word here is "always".
Because I consider your existence self-evident. That’s the privilege of my
Christian bias. But still, I just need to know that you are still there, always.
It is important for me to know that because nobody wants to be talking to
himself, at least not when he believes he is talking to you.

People say that if my heart is open I can hear you. I believe that. I really do. Or at least
I want to believe that. Who am I to even
doubt that? In my many years on earth, I had a few significant moments when
my heart was open. Yes, truly open. No joke. I know that because during
those times, I felt that I was closer to you than I was closer to anyone. In
fact I felt so close to you that I could almost feel your presence. Almost. But being truly open to you
then, I did not get to hear you in the same way that I can hear my wife
whispering to me. In other words, I did not get to hear you in such a way that
I can record it all down in my hand-phone so that I can fondly listen to your
voice again at a later date when I am discouraged. (pregnant pause)

Ok, maybe that recording thingy is taking it a tad too
far. I get it. But still, I did not hear you audibly.

Dear God, let me be frank with you and I seek your pardon.
I hope it's alright with you?
(waiting)

Ok, here goes. I can't help but get this impression that
you don't seem to communicate with me in the same way that communication is
normally understood by me. I know you have
spoken before during biblical times of old and it was audible, firm and
even loud. No doubt about that. And I have heard the same testimony about you
speaking to other believers in a loud and clear voice. At least that was what
they told me. But when it comes to me, someone who is dying to have the same
experience as those chosen ones, your still small voice somehow turns out to be
more silent to me than it is still and small.

Well, truth be told, I have experienced the same kind of
silent treatment in my life before. Trust me I have. My wife and I have gone
cold turkey before. We treated each other like we didn't exist. But of course,
it was merely a game of childish pretending or ignoring and it was not as if we
didn't exist. You know that right? Some
call it showing the other the cold shoulder. Or putting the other on cold
storage. Or giving the cold treatment. Those were silent moments that basically
arose from a vindictive or indignant heart.

However, even during those times of general apathy and
apparent distance, I am sure my wife was there. She was in fact in the other
room, sulking. And I was in my room, sulking. You see, we may have no desire
whatsoever to communicate but we knew outright that we were not far from each
other.

But in your case, dear God, I am
sure that when I did not hear from you when I desperately wanted to hear from
you, you were not in the other side of eternity, right? I am sure you were
not angry with me right? I am sure you
were near and you heard me?However
you were just not replying to me in an audible voice because you have your
reasons, right? You were basically held back by a higher purpose? And I am
sure your reasons are beyond reproach, beyond challenge right? I am sure.

And by the way, who am
I to question why you choose to refrain from projecting your voice in the same
way that my wife projects hers when talking to me? And why am I even making it an issue about
you? Maybe I need to listen harder. Maybe I need to understand you more.
Maybe I need to wait longer. Maybe I need to have more patience. Maybe I need
to listen to you in other ways because you may have communicated to me in other
ways too.

So, dear God, if I have not bored you thus far, I guess
what I am trying to tell myself about what you are I guess trying to tell me is
that you talk to me in many ways and I may have taken some of those ways for
granted. Maybe you have spoken to me by way of a sign or upon the occurrence of
an event. Or through a friend, a Sunday sermon, a heart conviction, a sudden
moment of epiphany, a planted thought, a flip of the pages of the bible, and
the list of possibilities goes on and on - anything but a direct,
audible, and booming voice-over.

And though ironic, here's one more way worth exploring.
Your reply to me may be to keep still and silent about my request to you. And
at such time, I ought to respond by being equally still and silent, and while
in this state of being mutually still and silent to each other, I should then
acknowledge your presence.

Phew, did I get that
all right, in the sequence they appear? I mean, silence in itself can be an
answer, right? Right? Erm...is that a yes, a no or a maybe?
(waiting)

Mm...well, being only fully human, here's what's bothering
me. Am I to give up ever hearing your
audible voice? Too extreme? Because for the last forty odd years, after
much reflecting and looking back, I don't think you have spoken to me in the way
that being spoken to is ordinarily understood. Correct me if I am wrong...? Wrong? Mmm….

So, taking from this cue, should I then just look for signs, wait for a f riend, sit in a Sunday
service, pray and flip a page, or blank out my mind and take the first thought
that pops in as your Spirit’s reply to me? Can I rely on them as your specific
answer to my needs or as an answer to quell my doubts? Can I? Mmm….

But here's another bugbear for me. How can I then be sure that those indirect encounters (or replies) have
been specially planned by you for the exclusive purpose of relating the message
with my name on it to me through them?What
if what I interpret from those signs or what I hear from others or what I read
in the bible is no more than random events availing themselves to me just
because I happen to be in the right place, with the right person and at the
right time?What if they are all
answers that I desperately want to hear and not answers you really want to tell
me? You know messages can be mixed up with yours being overpowered by mine right?You do know that self-deception is the
darnest thing, right?

Ok, this unavoidably dovetails to one fear I have and I
trust you can empathize with me. This fear comes in three words (or two): Self-confirming bias. I am sure you have heard of that description a
billion times and no further explanation from me is required.

So, after all is said
and done - if not more is said by me on this side - is there a better, less
round-about way to get your message across to me, dear God?Can we cut the middle man and have you speak
to me heart-to-heart, face-to-face? And I am not even asking for it to be
frequent. It can be infrequent and not even once a year. It can be done once in
a blue moon and I hope in heaven, there's not millions of them blue moons!

Or maybe it can be done on rare occasions when I need to
hear you most for encouragement and not when I am asking for something from you
in particular. Maybe it can be just an under-the-breath whisper and not a grand
appearance with horses and chariots and earth, wind and fire. It can even be
anonymous but with your distinct divine signature of course. And by that, I
mean something like a blind date in one of those restaurants that is completely
dark.

In fact, those restaurants can be so dark that you can't even see your
own hand waving in front of you. All you can do is to rely on
your senses of taste and hearing, and it would be completely private, discreet
and quick. How's that for anonymity? What
do you think? Any chance of that happening once in a blue moon? (pause)

Ok...I take your silence as you are not too keen. I get
it. I think I may be asking too much. I should be more respectful and
understanding. I am sorry. I guess
you are God for a reason (amongst many of course) and I have no right to
be dictating the terms of our rendezvous with you.

Maybe what I really need is more meditation and less conversation, more
silent inspiration and less vocal communication, and more watching and praying
and less talking and questioning. Although if you'd recall in your Word, I
am encouraged to ask and believe in the impossible.

Alas, I guess this is one
request that may be before its time. I
understand. And I therefore humbly withdraw the request. I shall henceforth
be, or learn to be, grateful that you once came, roamed amongst us, taught with
infectious zeal, were persecuted most horribly, and rose in glory. I should therefore
know my place in the sovereignty of your plan and obediently stay on my side of
the faith, in reverence and fear.

For now, that should be enough, I think, Until the next
itch comes along to be scratched, I guess. For now, this will be my Christian
hope and the anchor of my faith. And as for that anonymous meeting in the dark,
well, it can wait until that day when I see you face-to-face in resplendent
glory and blinding brightness.

I guess when that day comes, you won't be still and silent to me anymore. Neither will we ever need a
middle man to pass the message. And on that day, it may not even be a face-to-face interaction
but a heart-to-heart one - whatever that means in the realm of your eternal glory. Can't wait. Amen. Cheerz.

Saturday, 26 April 2014

Now I qualify that with the word
"may". It is not a sure thing. It is more an unsure thing because
people do change. Some people are rarefied by challenges. Others are terrified
by it. The truth is, you will never really know it until you are thrown into
the situation. But let's do a mental exercise here. Let's put imagination to
work. I wonder what happens if I am a
charismatic preacher?What challenges
will I face? In fact, what challenges does a charismatic preacher in general
face?

Personally I trust a
charismatic preacher will conduct himself above board. In any event, he is
where he is because he has proven himself over the years. His industry has paid
off. That much can be safely presumed. I can trust that he will resist a bribe.
He will refuse a questionable proposal. He will watch his tongue most of the
time. He will also reject favoritism, discrimination and overt nepotism (leaving covert nepotism aside). I will
also expect the charismatic preacher to be able to control his carnal
appetites, to refuse an indecent proposal, to turn away from worldly
affiliation, and to resist a gamble that ordinarily seems too good to resist.

Now, it seems like I
am describing an almost perfect person and I know that's quite delusional. Let
me balance it up then. If the Catholic priests convicted of sexual misconduct is any indication, I guess what is uncommon to pious men can
sometimes be rather common when they are given enough opportunity, indulgence
and adulation to feel infallible or indispensable.

So, my praise for
them may be on the effusive side but I guess the majority of them will struggle
successfully to meet the collective expectation. Still, my point is a
nuanced one about these charismatic preachers and why I may fail as one. There
is just something that goes far deeper than the sins of the carnal flesh as listed
above.

I believe that even
the sin of the carnal flesh pays homage to this core sin. And it is the sin of
the ego. This is what I truly fear. And this is where I find it most uncanny or
strange. Here's why. If we take Lucifer’s fall as a timeless lesson for all, the
strange bit is that we often overestimate our own ability to overcome pride and
underestimate Lucifer’s. Although seldom openly admitted, we think we are
special, chosen and different. As such, we tend to measure ourselves with a centimeter
ruler and interpret the results in miles. And therein lies the problem.

Lucifer fell because
of pride and he was needless to say the apple of the Father's eye. Alas, being
highly favored was not enough for the most talented creation before man.
Lucifer didn't just want to be the object of God's love. He wanted to be God; full stop. He wanted to be worshipped.
And here is a wry quote that comes to mind, "If you worship me, you will find that I am actually a very nice guy."
This is the implied danger faced by many charismatic preachers. Like it or not,
the adoration of charismatic preachers by the masses somehow do cross the line
from respect and reverence to idolization and even worship, albeit demonstrated
most indirectly; most times even unknowingly. And the effect on the charismatic preacher can be unnervingly delusional and even self-realizing.

Now let's go back to
my chances of being a successful charismatic preacher. Pride is a slippery
slope for me and it is the main reason why I may not make the cut. What makes
pride even more insidious is its close cousin called humility. Here's another
quote that comes to mind, "Most of
what they call humility is successfully disguised arrogance." (Nassim
Nicholas Taleb “The Bed of Procrustes”).

Many would think that
the opposite of pride is humility. Well, this is not always the case. In fact,
most times, the private self-ingratiation of pride needs to be buttressed by some
public form of self-effacement. You can call it a hired public relation officer
or a spin doctor of humility. Of course, I am employing a semantic twist to
humility here. My point is that
charismatic preachers will be adored. That's a fact. That's a fact even if the
preacher himself (with the best of
intention) constantly reminds his people to redirect their adoration to the
right person. They will also be showered with praises. They will be treated
like the "Vicar of Christ"
so to speak.

Let me go out on a limb here to prove my point with this
scripture. If no man comes to the Father except through the son, then for a
charismatic preacher, there is a hidden risk that his enraptured congregation
may take that scripture to its next logical conclusion, that is, "no man comes to the son except through my
pastor."

This is where the resolve
to resist the onslaught of pride gradually wears down and become compromised by
a deluded sense of self-believability. This is also where projected humility
becomes disingenuous over time as the preacher’s popularity rise by default of
congregational strength.

As a result, these
popular preachers will have to struggle through with this larger-than-life
image forced upon them and it is not going to be easy. I therefore empathize
with them. In fact I empathize with myself more. I believe there is no immunity
for pride unless one is immune from being a human being.

In the end, I think
that all such personalities, who are constantly being placed quite
involuntarily under the spotlight, should be reminded that when the blinding
light shines directly at them, they cannot possibly see where they are going.
It clouds their way and they sometimes have to muddle through. This leaves the
pitfalls, potholes and road bumps in the open and increases the risk of
missteps and mistakes.

I guess pride has an
insidious way of anesthetizing us into a lull of invulnerability. It conflates
our sense of self importance and gives us this "I-just-know-I-am-right" mindset. This mindset is stubbornly
resistant to changes even when such changes are long overdue. Before long, the victim
is entombed in his own self-fortifying sanctuary, which is watered and fed weekly by
the wholehearted endorsement of the majority of his congregation.

So, for all those
reasons, the yoke of the charismatic preacher is indeed heavy. And a yoke I
would be unduly burdened with. If we cast it on the back of Christ, we will
overcome eventually. But if we want it all for ourselves - the glory, the fame,
the adulation, the perpetuity in succession, the iron-fisted control, the self-conjured charisma, the self-deluded invulnerability, the holier-than-thou-or-righter-than-you mentality (not openly embracing them but progressively and largely
unknowingly), then we are ineluctably following in the angel of light's
footstep (2 Corinthians 11:14). That
is, the one who once thought that he was better than his Creator and considered
a replacement as long overdue. Cheerz.